


Hips like jagger (and two left feet)

by givebackmylifecas



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Berlin is still dead, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mónica isn't part of the gang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25319938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givebackmylifecas/pseuds/givebackmylifecas
Summary: Denver throws his hands in the air. “Well, I don’t know what you want from me. Why do I even need to know how to salsa anyway?”Tokyo rolls her eyes. “Because we’re going to a salsa bar, dumbass.”Denver is having trouble learning how to dance, thankfully Palermo is happy to help him out.
Relationships: Denver | Daniel Ramos/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 30
Kudos: 80





	Hips like jagger (and two left feet)

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh.... this is for the Palver group chat. Set sometime in the monastery before the second heist. Mónica never left the mint with them.
> 
> No TWs
> 
> Fic title from the Halsey song "Finally // beautiful stranger"

“You’re doing it wrong,” Tokyo complains loudly and Denver sighs in frustration.

Nairobi looks over from where she’s teaching Helsinki the steps. “She’s right, you are doing it wrong.”

He throws his hands in the air. “Well, I don’t know what you want from me. Why do I even need to know how to salsa anyway?”

Tokyo rolls her eyes. “Because we’re going to a salsa bar, dumbass.”

“So, you can find a thousand men there to dance with, why do you need me to be able to dance?”

“It’ll be more fun if we can all dance together,” Helsinki says over the top of Nairobi’s head.

“Easy for you to say,” Denver mutters, scowling at his feet which can’t seem to get the steps right.

Tokyo grabs his hands again. “Okay, one more time. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven – no Denver, for fuck’s sake you don’t keep moving on eight.”

Denver wrenches himself out of her grip as he manages to step on her foot for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

“You know what,” he says. “I’m done, go to the fucking salsa bar by yourselves.”

“No Denver, come on,” Tokyo pleads, batting her lashes at him and he scowls.

At the time he didn’t understand what his father was trying to tell him about her, but more and more during the planning for the new heist she’s been getting on his nerves. He thinks about Mónica, the employee at the mint and wonders what life would have been like if she’d decided to come with him when the Professor got them all out.

He shakes his head. “No. I’m done with you guys for tonight.”

He storms out despite Helsinki and Nairobi’s protests, stopping only to grab the bottle of rum Tokyo had persuaded him to bring along to their impromptu dance lessons.

Times like these he really misses his father. They’d argued about a lot of things it’s true, but his father had always understood his feelings even if he didn’t always agree with them. The way he’d explain things to Denver, not like he’s stupid, but like he’s worth the time and effort are what he misses the most at the moment. He can tell the Professor is tired of him and his questions sometimes and the new guys kind of make him feel like dumb kid a lot of the time.

He goes out into the courtyard, which is thankfully empty, and sits cross-legged on the low wall. He takes a long swig of the rum which really is too cheap to drink as is, but he isn’t going back inside to find a mixer now. He looks up at the sky and thinks about staring at the stars with his dad. He’s not overly religious but it comforts him a little to think about his dad looking down on him, like that dumb kid’s movie about lions.

He startles when he hears a door slamming and looks up to see one of the new guys, Berlin’s old friend Palermo striding out into the night. His face is screwed up in annoyance and Denver wonders if Tokyo called him a fairy again or something.

Palermo stops under one of the stone arches, lighting up a cigarette, hands cupped around the flame. He takes a long drag before exhaling smoke out into the night air, shoulders immediately relaxing.

Denver puts down the rum, the glass clinking loudly against the stone wall. Palermo looks over at him and nods in recognition. Denver does a half wave in return which he’s sure looks ridiculous, so he takes another swig of rum.

“Do you want one?” Palermo calls, holding up his cigarette carton.

Denver shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

Palermo walks over to him and Denver almost laughs at how ridiculous he looks in his tight jeans and leather jacket. It’s certainly not something just anyone could pull off, but while Palermo looks ridiculous, it kind of works.

“Thanks,” he says when Palermo holds the carton out to him.

He pulls out a cigarette and leans forward so Palermo can light it for him. He inhales and then frowns, studying the cigarette.

“Menthols?” he asks and Palermo scowls.

“It was all they had at the shop,” he mutters and Denver shrugs, taking another drag.

He exhales, drinks more rum and then looks at Palermo who is smoking with his arms folded across his body as if he’s cold, even though the night air is fairly mild for the time of year. He takes another gulp of the frankly disgusting rum and then holds it out to Palermo.

The man eyes it for a moment before taking the bottle from Denver and downing a healthy amount.

“Thank you,” he says when he hands it back and Denver nods. They’re silent for a moment and then Palermo sits down on the wall next to his knees. “So why are you sulking out here? Thought you kids were doing something fun tonight.”

Denver snorts. “Kids? Don’t make yourself sound ancient. You and the Professor aren’t that old.”

Palermo wrinkles his nose. “I’m younger than the Professor, you know?”

“Well you dress younger, I suppose,” Denver says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Palermo asks, looking down at himself. “You don’t like my clothes?”

“No, no they’re good. Better than what the Professor wears.”

Palermo snorts. “Well that’s not hard. Man has a stick up his ass so he needs to wear clothes that let him sit with it.”

Denver laughs, half choking on the rum he’d just swallowed.

“So, why are you out here sulking, kid?” Palermo asks again.

“Still not a kid.”

“I’m thirteen years older than you,” Palermo says with a laugh and Denver shrugs.

“Tokyo was pissing me off,” he says instead.

Palermo nods. “Women,” he says derisively.

“You’re not going to start with that boom, boom, ciao shit again are you?” Denver groans.

Palermo laughs. “Nope, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Please, there’s nothing wrong with having sex with women.”

“Sure there isn’t, I’m just saying sex with men is better.”

“I really doubt it,” Denver insists.

“How do you know if you’ve never tried it?” Palermo asks, one eyebrow cocked.

Denver resolutely doesn’t think about the hurried handjobs he’d once exchanged with some nameless guy in the bathroom of a club in Madrid and shrugs. “Whatever, man.”

Palermo eyes him for a moment, before holding his hand out for the liquor. “So what did Tokyo do that was so awful?”

Denver waits for the bottle to be passed back and takes another mouthful before answering. “Ugh, they want to go to this salsa club? So Nairobi says me and Helsinki should learn. And like, I just couldn’t get the steps right and Tokyo was being a bitch about it.”

“It’s probably just because she wasn’t a good teacher,” Palermo says with a shrug.

“Probably,” Denver mumbles, all of a sudden feeling the effects of the alcohol. He stubs out his cigarette and sighs. “Maybe I’m just a bad dancer.”

Palermo shakes his head. “Nah, it’s not hard, you just need someone to be patient.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s just a case of learning the steps, you’ve got rhythm I’m sure.”

“I mean, Tokyo said I don’t.”

“Fuck her,” Palermo says and Denver laughs.

“I tried before the first heist and she said no,” he snickers.

Palermo shakes his head. “Do you want me to show you? I taught the Professor and that man doesn’t have a rhythmic bone in his body.”

Denver hesitates a moment before nodding. “Fuck it, why not?”

Palermo gets to his feet and after a little more liquid courage Denver does the same.

Palermo stands opposite him. “Okay so if you’re going to a club you’ll probably be dancing with a girl who’ll expect you to lead. So give me your left hand, now put your right hand on my back.”

Denver does, fingers curling into the back of Palermo’s jacket. “Weird, Tokyo did it the other way round.”

“Of course she did,” Palermo says, rolling his eyes. “Okay, you move on one and step forward with your left foot. One, two, three, four, okay good, not bad. Better than the Professor at any rate.”

“Really?” Denver asks with a laugh.

Palermo nods, a smile on his face. “Yeah really. Okay let’s try again.”

Palermo counts, sort of humming a song under his breath as he does and it really isn’t as hard as Tokyo made it seem. But she was very demanding and kept yelling, which, despite how Palermo sometimes acts, he’s managed to refrain from. Denver actually kind of likes dancing with him, it’s soothing, just moving back and forth, one hand curled around Palermo’s waist.

“You’re good at this,” Denver says and Palermo shrugs.

“I’m Argentinian, it’s like a national requirement.”

Denver frowns. “Wait, really?”

“No,” Palermo says with a laugh and Denver stops moving, meaning that when Palermo steps forward as he’s required to, he’s right in Denver’s personal space.

“I’m not stupid,” Denver says with a frown.

“I never said you were.”

“Right,” Denver says, flushing. “Well, just… because I feel like you all think I am. Like, I didn’t finish school, but I’m not dumb.”

Palermo nods seriously. “I don’t think you are.”

“Thanks,” Denver mumbles, trailing off when he notices how close they’re still standing.

Palermo is just a bit shorter than him, although not by much and Denver wonders if it feels different to kiss someone who’s almost the same height.

“That boom boom ciao thing?” he suddenly blurts. “Is it really true?”

Palermo narrows his eyes suspiciously and Denver’s hand tightens on his jacket. “Why?”

“Uh… just… um. Fuck,” Denver says and yanks Palermo forward into a kiss.

He responds quickly, hands coming up to grasp the back of Denver’s neck, fingers sliding into his hair. It’s good, Denver has to admit, especially when Palermo bites the his bottom lip just enough for it to sting.

He pulls away, breathless, eyes wide and staring at Palermo.

“Uh,” Denver says as Palermo looks at him expectantly. “I’m not gay.”

“Okay.”

“I like women.”

Palermo nods. “I believe you.”

“Right,” Denver says. “But that…”

“You started it,” Palermo says defensively.

“No I know,” Denver nods. “I uh… liked it?”

“Okay…” Palermo says slowly.

“And maybe I’d want to do it again?”

“Maybe?” Palermo asks, eyebrows raised.

Denver kisses him again instead of answering, pulling him tightly against his body. Palermo tastes like the cheap rum and menthols and a little bit sweet and Denver pushes his tongue further into his mouth, making him moan.

“Do you want to… maybe move this somewhere else?” Palermo asks when Denver lets go of him again.

He sort of wants to mention again that he’s not gay, but he has both hands on Palermo’s ass and he can’t fool himself into thinking both he and Palermo have a roll of mints in their trouser pockets.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Okay.”

“Is that a yes?” Palermo asks and Denver drags him into another kiss.

“Yes,” he says, lips only inches from Palermo’s.

The older man smiles and grabs his hand. “Then let’s go.”

* * *

Denver resolutely avoids catching anyone’s eye at breakfast the next morning, but he can’t help the stupid grin that spreads across his face when Palermo waltzes into the kitchen with a distinct bruise on his neck.

“What are you so happy about?” Bogota asks him grumpily over the rim of his coffee cup.

Denver shrugs. “Nothing, just thinking maybe Palermo had a point after all.”

Palermo throws him a wink as he takes his seat and Tokyo rolls her eyes.

“About what?” she asks.

“Uh, saunas,” Denver says quickly as Nairobi glances between him and Palermo.

“Jesus Christ,” she says, grabbing some toast. “Did you two fuck?”

“Definitely not,” Palermo says casually.

Nairobi raises her eyebrows. “Then who left that monstrosity on your neck?”

Palermo shrugs. “Maybe the monastery is haunted by a horny ghost.”

The Professor sighs loudly from the other end of the table. “Palermo, Denver, don’t let it get in the way of anything.”

“Sure thing, señor,” Palermo says as everyone turns to stare at Denver.

Denver laughs. “What can I say, maybe his boom, boom, ciao theory isn’t bullshit after all?”

**Author's Note:**

> idk if you liked this but feel free to yell at me here, on tumblr ([@hefellfordean](https://hefellfordean.tumblr.com)), or twitter ([@angstypalermo](https://twitter.com/angstypalermo))


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